


just one of those days

by remy (iamremy)



Series: askbox prompts (multifandom) [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint has a bad day, Deaf Clint Barton, Depression, Ficlet, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, and bucky looks after him, non verbal clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 16:55:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20709404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: anonymous asked:IT IS I, SANJY. I love your writing bb you already know that. I shall request no. 5 (broken) for winterhawk pls. Ilysm. Also don’t feel like you HAVE to fill this prompt. I know you already have a ton 😘





	just one of those days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaiyaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiyaa/gifts).

> as always, you can all blame my wife for this :))))

Clint is in the exact same position Bucky left him in an hour or so ago when he took Lucky for a walk. He takes in a deep breath when he sees him, lying on his side on the couch, fleece blanket tangled in his legs and uneaten slice of pizza on the coffee table. At least the glass of water is half-empty; Bucky’ll take his wins where he gets them.

“Not feeling any better?” he asks, getting to his knees so he can take off Lucky’s leash.

Clint shakes his head.

“Need anything?”

Clint gives him a half-shrug.

“Gonna need a yes or a no, sweetheart, and then we can go from there.”

Clint considers this for a moment, and then shakes his head.

“All right, just let me know if you do,” Bucky tells him. He draps his jacket over the back of a chair and kicks his shoes off, leaving them where they are and going over to Clint. “Done eating?” he asks.

Clint doesn’t respond. Being done eating would mean he’d touched his food in the first place, and he clearly hasn’t, as evidenced by the fact that the plate hasn’t so much as moved from where Bucky had set it down next to the broken remains of Clint’s hearing aids. Undeterred, Bucky picks up the plate and walks over to the kitchen, depositing it in the fridge. “Guess we can reheat it later if you feel hungry,” he says.

Nothing but silence.

Something inside Bucky goes soft, and he returns to the couch, kneeling next to it so that his face is just a few inches from Clint’s. “Not in the mood for the aids, huh?” he asks.

Clint shakes his head. That makes sense, thinks Bucky; he really hates his spare pair, keeps saying he’ll get Tony to take a look and never actually gets down to it.

“Wanna sign?”

Clint shakes his head.

“Not in the mood to talk? I get that. It’s all right, darling, you don’t haveta say a single word that you don’t wanna, okay?” Bucky tells him reassuringly, running a hand through Clint’s short hair, fingernails scritching lightly at his scalp.

Clint closes his eyes at that, just for a moment, leaning into Bucky’s touch. Then he opens them again, and gives Bucky a pale sort of smile.

“Don’t need to thank me for anything, Clint,” Bucky tells him, running a thumb over his cheekbone. “You know I’m always here for anything you need. _Always.”  
_

Clint looks thoughtful for a moment, and then, slowly and deliberately, he sits up on the couch, untangling the blanket from his legs as he does so. He’s still in yesterday’s shirt and those sweats with the hole over the left knee, and soon enough Bucky knows he’s going to have to talk him into showering. But that’s for later; for now, he takes Clint’s cue and sits down on one end of the couch.

Clint responds by lying down again, this time with his head cushioned on Bucky’s thigh. Bucky lets his hand fall into Clint’s hair again, resuming the slow, methodical movements, noting with satisfaction how Clint’s body seems to relax, slowly but surely.

“Just one of those days, huh?” he asks with a small smile.

Clint nods.

“You want the blanket?”

Shakes his head.

“Yeah, you’re right, too hot for it anyway,” Bucky says conversationally. “Fuckin’ humid as hell, too, outside. You did the smart thing, stayin’ home.”

Clint snorts at that.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that’s just how it is in the summer,” Bucky says, lightly flicking his ear. “Still gonna complain, though, ‘cause it’s _fun_. God knows you do your fair share of it too.”

He gets an eyeroll in response to that.

“What, you think I _like_ your complaining? Come on, doll, you know I only put up with it ‘cause you’re pretty.”

Clint sticks his tongue out at him, and that’s close enough to his normal self that it makes Bucky laugh.

“Real mature, sweetheart.”

Clint opens his mouth to do it again, but ends up yawning instead, not bothering to cover his mouth in true Clint fashion. Bucky rolls his eyes, and then asks, “Sleepy?”

Clint nods.

“All right then, get some shut-eye,” Bucky tells him. “You’ll feel better when you wake up, I know you will.”

Clint smiles at him, brighter than the previous one, and then closes his eyes, turning his face into Bucky’s stomach. Bucky lets him, keeps his fingers in Clint’s hair, and smiles back at him even though he knows Clint isn’t looking right now.

“Yeah yeah, I love you too, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are hugely appreciated!
> 
> love,  
remy


End file.
